Telus Festival
This past weekend, I headed up to Whistler with my brother Brian and some friends for the last weekend of the Telus Festival. It wasn’t necessarily intended to be a dudes only trip, but like many ski trips, it ended up that way.
Brian flew in on Wednesday night, and Meagan, Brian, and I went to Wasabi Bistro for some sushi.
The next day, after sorting out gear and rides, we departed north on Thursday afternoon, a bit delayed by a real estate transaction. We rolled into town late in the afternoon, met up with JJ, who had arrived earlier, snowboarded that day, and amazingly stocked both condos with beer, chips, breakfast food, muffins, fruit, and, JJ’s staple, cut vegetables. That earned JJ about five points (and his own room).
Dinner was beers and a big bucket of chicken from KFC. When we were through eating, there was only one piece left in the bucket, with a single bite mysteriously missing from one of the pieces. No one fessed up, leading us to believe that either someone was lying, someone forgot, or someone at KFC did it. We considered all equally likely.
After chicken, we made our way to the Telus Conference Center for the Pro Photographer Showdown. The Telus Festival and events like the showdown are some of the many reasons I love Whistler - five outdoor photographers are selected as finalists and display their work in a nine minute slideshow, and the winner takes a fat check home. It’s a great celebration of mountain life, and the crowd helps to make it a fun event.
One of the minor downers of this year’s was that the emcee was a little too chatty, and not that entertaining. He started off by introducing the event, then the judges, then the photographers. It was way too anticlimactic - everyone wanted to see some pictures, but instead, the emcee was droning on with boring preamble.
Once things got rolling, it was a lot better. One of the things that might have helped get things rolling was the forwardness of our friend, who will remain nameless. Frustrated with the pace of the preamble and sensing the mounting palpable frustration among us and other attendees, using skills honed at home Sonics games, he finally yells out, “Shut the fuck up Galbraith and show us some fucking photos!”. I was nearly on the floor, half in embarrassment, have loving that he had the balls to say that. It turns out that his name wasn’t Galbraith (that would be one of the judges) but the certainty and conviction were awesome. Most around us shared in the shock but also the quiet amusement of someone saying what many were thinking. I thought we might be in for an incident-filled evening, but fortunately, things calmed down a bit and the show started.
Due to the amount of time it took for the judges to decide and our desire to not listen to the emcee anymore, I didn’t find out who won - they were all pretty inspiring, my favorite display was by Frode Sandbech. I thought his compositions were more interesting than the others (instead of just snapping huck shots) and he choreographed the music with his photos a lot better.
We finished off Thursday with a few rounds of beers and miscellaneous shots at Tapley’s and then chilled at the condo.
Friday, we rode Whistler mountain. Conditions were really variable. In some places, they had a few inches of new, but it was on top of a really hard crust, so on steeper slopes, it slid quickly and it was hard to edge. We rode the park a bit too. Downer of the day was JJ taking a hard fall and separating his shoulder, putting him out of riding condition for the rest of the trip.
After riding, we headed back to the condo to hit the hot tub. We selected the condo for the largeness of the hot tub - we weren’t the only large group of guys to do so. At one point, there was a 23-1 ratio in the hot tub. Dude soup. It was fun though, relaxing with a few beers.
Options for dinner quickly diminished as we lazily hung out in the condo some more, so we finally ordered some Dominos from across the street and picked it up. I left early to meet my friend Louise, my sole housemate remaining in Whistler. We then went to the Fashion Exposed show, featuring mountain and action sport clothing. The highlight, of course, were the two models wearing little else but black body paint who occasionally filled such necessary roles as walking down the runaway to inform us how many minutes remained to the start of the show. Sweet. Other than that, lots of bright ski gear. It was fun.
Afterwards, we headed to the Beagle and then back to the condo.
Saturday, half the group stayed in and played Settlers of Kattan, made brownies and nachos, and the other half went to Blackcomb. Similar conditions to the day before, if not a bit harder pack, and way colder. Negative 20 C at the top, crazy cold for late April. Once warmed up, we had a fun day doing laps on a mellow jump on Seventh Heaven.
After riding, we hit up Citta’s for two orders of poutine, one order of wings, and three jugs. The poutine barely saw the light of day before we pounced, incurring some looks of shock and awe from the adjacent table (ladies in shock, gents in awe). Additional highlight was the Kokanee “mascots”. We got a free beer.
After Citta, we headed to the hot tub, then back to the village to check out De La Soul. Tim and my brother ran into a bachelorette party. When Tim informed one of the group that he was married, this woman responded “I’m married too - if you cheat on your wife tonight, I will haunt you in your dreams!”. Wow. We left shortly after that to hit up Earl’s for some food. A few people ate themselves into a near coma.
We returned to the village, headed back to Tapley’s for a bit. Some split for the Cinnamon Bear, Matt and I decided to part with $50 and check out the DJ Experience Rave. Security was tighter than at an airport, requiring us to empty all our pockets and subject ourselves to a fairly aggressive frisk. Once inside, it was a good scene and good music, although I didn’t really have enough energy to properly enjoy it. We headed home around 2:30.
Sunday, a few people left early, a few chilled in the village, and Tim, Brian, Matt, and I rode Blackcomb again. On the way to the village, we saw a dog trying to order breakfast.
The mountain was fairly icy again, but fun to be outside and sweat the remaining alcohol off. We did some runs on Seventh Heaven and the glacier before heading down to Dublinh Gate for a late lunch sendoff. I was (unfairly) laughed at for ordering too much food and losing my wallet and/or cell phone for the thirteenth time on the trip.
The ride home was fairly uneventful and we pulled into Seattle in the early evening, sorted out gear, and headed home. Brian, Meagan, and I went out for sushi again, this time to Kisaku in Green Lake. I gotta give my brother credit - for being a sushi novice, requesting it twice in four days is a strong showing.
Monday morning, reality returned particularly early as I got up at 6:30 to give my brother a ride to the airport. This was Brian’s fourth trip out here since I moved to Seattle and third one to Whistler, and each time has been a blast. Thanks for coming out Brian, and thanks to all my friends who made the trip happen. Special shout out to JJ for organizing the condos and taking an unfortunate injury hit.
Finally, a few quick bullets for the “What happens in Whistler stays in Whistler category”:
- The Brian and Ben mission
- Ridin’ Dirty
- Angry Ming
- The Apple
I’m looking forward to next season’s Telus festival already. Fortunately, there might be a few more days left in the ‘08 season yet.